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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24530674">Politeness and Enthusiasm</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrianna_m_scovill/pseuds/adrianna_m_scovill'>adrianna_m_scovill</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Chitty Chitty Bang Bang - All Media Types, Trouble in the Heights (2011)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, M/M, Nevactacus, Oral Sex, Rough Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:47:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,898</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24530674</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrianna_m_scovill/pseuds/adrianna_m_scovill</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>For a request - out of all the prospects in a club, it's Caractacus that Nevada decides to take home.</p><p>Not a part of my regular Nevactacus series.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Caractacus Potts/Nevada Ramirez</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Nevactacus</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Politeness and Enthusiasm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You like that, baby?” the young man purred into Nevada’s ear as he ground against him. He was straddling Nevada’s lap, arms looped around Nevada’s neck as he rocked back and forth, rubbing their crotches together.</p><p>“Mm,” Nevada answered, the sound noncommittal. He wouldn’t have heard the question if the man’s lips hadn’t been right up to his ear, and Nevada was getting annoyed by the clinginess. He took a final drag on his cigarette and squinted through the smoke as he stubbed it out in the ashtray on the table.</p><p>The man ducked his head and nuzzled Nevada’s neck. “You smell so nice,” he said, the words nearly lost beneath the pulsing thud of the music. He pulled an arm from around Nevada’s neck to reach between their bodies, rubbing his palm over Nevada’s distended fly before giving his own erection a squeeze. “You wanna go somewhere—”</p><p>Nevada grabbed the other man’s wrist. He didn’t need the squirmy bastard coming in his lap. “No.” He pushed him off his thighs. “Time’s up.”</p><p>“What—” the young man started as he stumbled awkwardly onto his feet.</p><p>Nevada made a shooing gesture with his hand, surveying the room as his men ushered the guy away. Nevada had already auditioned nearly every guy in the club, and he was annoyed that they were all so…annoying.</p><p>He looked toward the couple in the corner. They had potential. They’d coordinated well together, one of them working his mouth along Nevada’s neck while the other knelt and dampened the front of Nevada’s jeans, and he was pretty sure they were his best option.</p><p>They were very much into each other, however, and Nevada didn’t like competition.</p><p>He looked toward the table across the room where a man sat dressed like a clown in bright-colored plaid and stripes. Nevada had dismissed him right out of the gate, but he’d found his gaze returning again and again. The guy was popular in spite of his ridiculous clothes. He’d had a steady stream of men buying him drinks and inviting themselves to sit at his table, and he’d been getting steadily more intoxicated as the night wore on.</p><p>He was way too friendly, entirely too cheerful, and much too…<em>everything</em>, and yet Nevada found himself intrigued by the sheer delight the man seemed to be getting from all the men trying to pick him up. He appeared too innocent for such a place, the kind of guy that would be eaten alive, and yet he kept sending men away disappointed.</p><p>Nevada, unsatisfied with any of his other prospects and about at the end of his patience, sent one of his men over to the table to invite the clown for an introduction. Nevada watched with more interest than he showed, watched as his man bent down to talk to the clown, as the latter shot a look toward Nevada before answering.</p><p>Nevada frowned as his man returned, alone.</p><p>“He said no.”</p><p>Nevada looked up in disbelief. “<em>No</em>?”</p><p>“No, thank you. He was very polite.”</p><p>Nevada turned his narrowed gaze toward the <em>pendejo</em> in plaid. “No one says no.”</p><p>“C’mom, Vad, there’s twenty guys in here who’ll go home with you, why—”</p><p>“No one says no,” Nevada repeated, rising smoothly to his feet and glancing down to make sure the bulge straining at his tight fly was adequately noticeable. He waved a hand at his men to stay where they were and sauntered over to the clown’s table.</p><p>There was another man perched beside the <em>payaso</em>, eagerly chatting, his hand resting on one plaid-covered shoulder as he leaned in. Dude was clearly hoping that a few drinks and a little friendly banter were going to get his dick sucked, but he was going to have to find another mark. Nevada had plans for that mouth, plans that would make it a lot less smiley. </p><p>“<em>Lárgate</em>,” he said. Both men looked up—one with friendly curiosity, one with open alarm.</p><p>The latter jumped up as though he’d been bitten. “<em>Lo siento</em>, <em>Señor </em>Ramirez,” he said.</p><p>“Wait, you forgot your drink,” the man in plaid said, his forehead knitting in concern as the other man scurried away.</p><p>“Keep it,” the guy said as he left.</p><p>The <em>payaso</em> looked up at Nevada, who’d been caught off guard by the English accent—maybe that explained the politeness—and Nevada realized the man was more than tipsy. He also didn’t appear the least bit afraid of Nevada.</p><p>Nevada leaned a hip against the table and crossed his arms, and the other man’s eyes slipped down to the front of his jeans and his obvious erection. He swallowed, hard, and his eyes returned to Nevada’s. Nevada smirked. “You know who I am?”</p><p>“Pardon?”</p><p>Nevada felt a flash of irritation. He hated repeating himself. He leaned forward. “Do you know who I am?” he said, enunciating slowly. He raised his voice just enough to be heard over the music. Shouting wasn’t his style.</p><p>“Mr. Ramirez?” the other man guessed cheekily, a dimple flashing as he smiled. His smile dimmed a bit as Nevada glared at him. “Um, no,” he amended, fidgeting in his seat.</p><p>“You can call me Nevada.” It was a generous offer, but Nevada didn’t want to scare the guy away too quickly. He could have his men force the clown to come home with him, but he wouldn’t be any good to Nevada if he wasn’t willing after that. Reluctant, sure. Scared, fine. But not unwilling.</p><p>“Caractacus Potts.”</p><p>Nevada hesitated, his forehead furrowing as he tried to determine whether or not the man was joking. “Cactus pot?” he finally asked.</p><p>Caractacus answered with a laugh that edged dangerously close to a giggle. “Caractacus,” he repeated. “You can call me Jack, if you want. My wife used to say—”</p><p>“Why’d you refuse when my guy asked you over for a drink?” Nevada interrupted, choosing not to dwell on the words ‘my wife’ or the fact that Cactus Pot was still too cheerful.</p><p>“A drink?” Caractacus repeated, glancing toward Nevada’s vacated seat with obvious skepticism.</p><p>Nevada snorted in amusement despite himself. “So it wasn’t the drink you were refusing,” he said, glaring down at the other man.</p><p>“Oh.” It was impossible to see his cheeks darken but Nevada would bet they must be on <em>fire</em>. Caractacus’s gaze flickered away before returning to Nevada’s. “I wasn’t refusing, I just…assumed the offer was politeness.”</p><p>Nevada’s eyebrows went all the way up. “Po<em>liteness</em>?” He paused, momentarily at a loss for words. He was glad he’d told his men to stay away because they would be laughing their <em>asses</em> off.</p><p>“You seemed to be pretty well covered, I certainly don’t think there’s anything I could offer that everyone else—”</p><p>“You really <em>don’t</em> know who I am,” Nevada mused. He shook his head. He peered at Caractacus, considering. “Nobody says no.”</p><p>Caractacus’s eyes slid down the length of Nevada’s body, and Nevada saw him swallow again. “No, I’d imagine not.”</p><p>Nevada almost said <em>that’s not what I meant</em>, but he was tired of talking over the music, tired of talking in general, tired of the game. He was ready to leave, and the only question remaining was who would be leaving with him. He’d decided to take the two guys making out in the corner; he wasn’t sure one person could scratch the itch he’d been nursing all evening.</p><p>“I’m just not sure I could do those things in public.”</p><p>Nevada’s wandering gaze returned to Caractacus. “What things.”</p><p>Caractacus fidgeted and gestured toward the table where Nevada had been sitting a few minutes earlier. “I know I must seem like a prude, but I don’t—”</p><p>“Not into people watching?” Nevada smirked.</p><p>“Right,” Caractacus said after a moment.</p><p>Nevada put a hand on the table and leaned down, holding Caractacus’s stare. “What about in <em>private</em>, Cactus Pot? You seem like a prude there?”</p><p>Caractacus ran a tongue over his lip, glancing at Nevada’s mouth. “No.”</p><p>The simplicity of the answer was disarming. And appealing. “I’ve been standing here for a minute, you still don’t offer to buy me a drink.”</p><p>Caractacus slid the recently-departed suitor’s abandoned drink across the table toward Nevada. “I figured you were ready to leave.”</p><p>Nevada flashed his teeth. The man was cheeky <em>and</em> smart. He’d be fun to break. Maybe Nevada wasn’t entirely tired of the game, after all.</p><p>Caractacus got to his feet. He was a little unsteady and held the edge of the table, but Nevada straightened in surprise when the other man stepped close. “You’d probably have fun with the two men over there, and I don’t know if I can compete. But I’ll give it my best shot.”</p><p>Okay, smart—and quite observant for a guy who was only a couple of drinks away from being fall-down drunk. His eyes were bright, but Nevada had begun to suspect that wasn’t just from the alcohol. There was no fear in the man’s face or posture, and he was close enough that Nevada could smell him; he smelled sweet and citrusy.</p><p>“Been watching me?” Nevada asked. He no longer had to raise his voice to be heard over the noise of the club; Caractacus’s head was bent forward as though he were eager to hear whatever Nevada might have to say.</p><p>“I thought you liked being watched.”</p><p>“You’re mouthy.”</p><p>Caractacus smiled with a strange mixture of confidence and shyness. “I can be.”</p><p>Nevada wanted to bite that smile from his lips. “Sure I can find something to keep it busy,” he offered.</p><p> </p><p>*       *       *</p><p> </p><p>Nevada didn’t touch him until they got to the car, and then he shoved him into the backseat while a man held the door open. Caractacus was already unsteady, and he stumbled forward and fell headfirst into the back of the car with a surprised sound. He crawled inside without resistance and Nevada followed him in, folding himself into the backseat as Caractacus managed to right himself.</p><p>The driver closed the door and circled around to drop heavily into the front seat, and a few moments later the car was pulling away from the club.</p><p>“How far is—”</p><p>Nevada grabbed the back of Caractacus’s neck and pulled him down, effectively cutting off the question. Caractacus put his hands on Nevada’s arm and knee to brace himself but didn’t resist, and in a moment his face was pressed against Nevada’s crotch. Nevada fisted his hand in the other man’s hair to hold him in place, prepared for a struggle.</p><p>Caractacus didn’t struggle, but he hesitated, his whole body still as though unsure what was expected. Then he reached tentatively, blindly, toward Nevada’s belt buckle.</p><p>“No,” Nevada said. He’d been half-hard for hours, but now he was grateful that he hadn’t forgone the usual metal cock ring out of caution. Without it and the restricting bite of denim he doubted he’d have the self-control to make it home, and he had no intention of finishing until he’d fucked each hole that <em>C</em><em>actus Pot</em> had to offer.</p><p>Caractacus settled his hand at Nevada’s waist, instead. His breath was hot, already heating the front of Nevada’s jeans, and Nevada fought the urge to grind against the other man’s face. Caractacus hesitated a few seconds longer before nosing experimentally at Nevada’s fly. When he wasn’t rebuked he grew bolder, and Nevada felt the tickle of tongue against the denim stretched over his cock.</p><p>He didn’t bother telling Caractacus that at least two other men—Nevada hadn’t actually kept track—had left their slobber there already; if Caractacus had been watching all evening, he probably knew, and he didn’t seem bothered. He ran his tongue along the seam of Nevada’s fly and Nevada shifted impatiently, glancing out the window to gauge how much longer he had to wait.</p><p>He sucked in a sharp breath, surprised when Caractacus’s mouth closed around the covered bulge of his erection and tightened. The pressure, after hours of unrequited arousal and self-imposed discomfort, was painful. Nevada, with his fingers twined tightly in Caractacus’s hair, flexed his hips to shove himself more firmly into the other man’s mouth. The move was instinctive, and he almost came against the rough wall of denim between his cock and Caractacus’s eager tongue.</p><p>Nevada jerked Caractacus’s hair, pulling him away, and Caractacus blinked up at him in the flash of passing lights. “Too hard?” he asked, clearly concerned, and Nevada almost laughed.</p><p>“Just making sure you follow directions,” Nevada said. His voice was rough, but he wasn’t upset. On the contrary, he was pretty sure his impulsive decision to bring Caractacus home was going to prove to be a good one. He looked over the plaid-clad body contorted into the backseat with a rush of excitement. Smart, observant, obedient. Flexible.</p><p>Nevada let go of Caractacus’s hair and reached over to squeeze a handful of his ass, humming in approval at the way it filled his palm and molded to the bruising pressure of his fingertips. Caractacus dropped his head down and kissed along the inside of Nevada’s thigh, staying away from his crotch. It barely mattered; Nevada was already leaking inside his jeans, and he was sorely tempted to give in and come down the other man’s throat, after all. He could always start over.</p><p>He was glad when the car slowed and pulled up in front of his building, so he didn’t have to confront his waning self-control. “Get up.” Caractacus pushed against Nevada’s thigh and hip to right himself, and Nevada shoved him off. He did it half-heartedly, though; he didn’t mind Caractacus’s hands.</p><p>Caractacus dropped onto his ass on the seat and peered out the window as the car drew to a stop, and Nevada reached over to grab a handful of the other man’s crotch. It was meant to be both a warning and a promise, but Nevada was surprised to find Caractacus fully-hard inside his ugly plaid trousers.</p><p>Nevada loosened his grip automatically, more out of surprise than mercy, but Caractacus grunted and then laughed. “Sorry, I didn’t—”</p><p>“Shut up and get out,” Nevada said, and Caractacus fumbled obediently for the door handle a moment before Nevada’s driver pulled the door open.</p><p>Caractacus offered the stone-faced man a sheepish smile, saying, “Thanks,” as he climbed out of the car. He immediately laced his hands together in front of his crotch, even though Nevada’s driver knew better than to look. Nevada straightened out of the car, cast a pointed look at Caractacus’s hands, and met his eyes with raised brows. Caractacus made a small mewling sound, and Nevada decided he wanted to hear a lot more of that once they’d gotten inside.</p><p>Caractacus dropped his hands aside without being told, and Nevada flashed him a genuine smile before gesturing with his head. He walked a step behind Caractacus, admiring the view while also relishing the man’s obvious embarrassment and discomfort.</p><p>By the time they got inside Nevada’s apartment, his own discomfort had him on edge. He opened his mouth to tell Caractacus to strip—and to make it quick—but the words died in his throat when Caractacus turned and kissed him. His aim was a little sloppy, but he made up for it with enthusiasm. Even half-drunk, however, he sensed Nevada’s surprise quickly enough and drew back.</p><p>In the bright light of the apartment, with his face mere inches away, Nevada could really see the color staining the other man’s cheeks, and the shine in his eyes. Caractacus’s pupils were blown wide, and his hair was a floppy mess. His lips were pink, a tad pouty.</p><p>“Sorry, is—is that not allowed?” he asked.   </p><p>“I don’t know,” Nevada said slowly. “Try it again.”</p><p>Caractacus hesitated, searching Nevada’s face to see if the words were an invitation or warning. To be honest, Nevada wasn’t sure himself. After a moment, Caractacus bent his head forward again and brushed his lips over Nevada’s. He licked his way into Nevada’s mouth, a little cautious but still enthusiastic, and reached for Nevada’s belt buckle.</p><p>Nevada let the other man undo the belt and unbutton his jeans, curious. Caractacus’s eagerness seemed at constant odds with his air of innocence, and Nevada was intrigued by the duality. Part of him wanted to give the clown free rein and simply see what would happen; the other part of him wanted to pound that innocence out of him, to make him squirm and whimper and beg.</p><p>Nevada wasn’t sure which desire was going to win.</p><p>Caractacus started unbuttoning Nevada’s shirt and Nevada bit the other man’s lip—not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to make Caractacus flinch even as Nevada was slapping his hands away.</p><p>Nevada pushed him toward the bedroom, and Caractacus stumbled but kept his footing. Nevada followed him, shucking off his own shirt as he walked. “Strip,” he ordered, kicking off his shoes and watching as Caractacus started taking off his own clothes.</p><p>Nevada fished lube and condoms out of his nightstand, tossing the former onto the bed and dropping the latter onto the floor beside his feet. Caractacus got out of his clothes quickly enough and turned, sizing up the situation.</p><p>Nevada took the moment to look the other man over, too—pale skin that would mark nicely, already flushed down to mid-chest; gold wedding band glinting from a chain against a sparse smattering of dark hair; impressive erection, already glistening—before Caractacus stepped forward and wordlessly sank to his knees to reach for Nevada’s zipper.</p><p>Nevada couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so tightly wound, so close to the edge of his own self-control. He clenched his hands at his sides, watching Caractacus open his jeans and pull him free. Caractacus ran a thumb over his tip, smearing the precum he’d been leaking for what felt like hours, and Nevada ground his teeth as his cock twitched in Caractacus’s grasp.</p><p>“I’ve never had anybody this big,” Caractacus said, and <em>that</em> certainly didn’t help.</p><p>“It’ll only hurt for a few hours.”</p><p>To Nevada’s surprise, Caractacus grinned up at him. He still wasn’t afraid. “I moisturize pretty well.”</p><p>Nevada uttered a startled bark of laughter, paused to consider the man kneeling before him, and laughed again. “You better hope.”</p><p>“Does this hurt?” Caractacus asked, running a finger over the glinting curve of the silver and black ring that was snug around the base of Nevada’s cock and wrapped behind his swollen testicles.</p><p>“Not yet,” Nevada answered, which wasn’t entirely true. He reached out to grab a fistful of the other man’s dark hair.</p><p>To his credit, Caractacus took the hint and didn’t balk. He opened his mouth, licking Nevada’s dripping slit before wrapping his lips around the head of his cock. He pushed his head forward, taking Nevada to the back of his throat and pausing. He seemed to be testing himself, and Nevada gave him a few seconds to prepare before holding him by the hair and driving himself into the barrier of his throat. Caractacus immediately gagged and Nevada drew back a little while the other man coughed around him.</p><p>As soon as Caractacus had drawn a breath through his nose, Nevada thrust forward again. This time, Caractacus was ready, and he swallowed, fighting his body’s reflexes as he pulled Nevada into his throat.</p><p>Nevada was pleasantly surprised, and he throbbed in the other man’s tight throat. He could feel Caractacus’s throat working, trying to accept the steady trickle of precum without coughing, and Nevada had to grudgingly admire the other man’s control.</p><p>After a few seconds Nevada withdrew, paused, and drove forward again. This time there was almost no resistance as he stuffed himself into the other man’s throat, and Nevada found himself regretting that he’d kept himself on the edge for so long. He wanted to properly enjoy the new toy he’d discovered, but he wasn’t going to last much longer.</p><p>Next time, he was going to spend at least an hour in Caractacus’s mouth and throat. For now, he was going to take each second he could and make it last.</p><p>Caractacus’s fingers dug into Nevada’s thighs, bruising him. Nevada expected the other man to tap out, and when he did he was going to get another two seconds; let it serve as a warning to be less trusting in the future.</p><p>Caractacus didn’t tap, though, and Nevada felt a slither of unease as he noted the splotchy color of the other man’s face, the tears leaking from his eyes, the drool foaming at the corners of his mouth and running down his chin.</p><p>Nevada let go of his hair.</p><p>Caractacus immediately drew back and sucked in a wet, ragged breath, turning his head to cough and splutter. He was a mess, and a swipe of his forearm over his mouth did little but smear the slimy mixture. He drew another deep breath and turned back toward Nevada. Before Nevada could say anything, Caractacus had once more swallowed his cock, taking it quickly and eagerly into his throat. Nevada swore and took an unsteady step forward, grabbing Caractacus’s head to brace himself.</p><p>He almost came down the man’s throat. It took all of his willpower to push Caractacus away, and even after Caractacus fell backward—catching himself with a hand on the floor behind him—Nevada still wasn’t sure he was going to be able to stall the building pressure. He grabbed the base of his cock, squeezing hard, drawing a deep breath to steady himself.</p><p>Caractacus swiped an arm over his face again, this time doing a better job of clearing away the mess, and looked up at Nevada with shimmering eyes.</p><p>“You’re no good if you kill yourself,” Nevada growled, toeing a condom packet toward the other man.</p><p>Caractacus didn’t answer—Nevada suspected he would have difficulty speaking, anyway—but picked up the packet with shaky fingers and tore it open. Nevada had regained a modicum of control, and he moved his hand out of the way so Caractacus could roll the condom onto his spit-slick cock.</p><p>“Won’t say I don’t appreciate the effort, though,” Nevada grumbled after a moment, and Caractacus glanced up at him with a smile. Nevada looked down at the other man’s erection, dark and leaking and neglected, and added generously, “You can touch yourself, y’know.”</p><p>Caractacus cleared his throat but didn’t answer as he started to get unsteadily to his feet. Nevada hauled him up and pushed him toward the bed, and Caractacus stumbled and caught himself on his hands on the mattress.</p><p>Nevada wondered how many times he could shove the man before he got annoyed. That might be a fun experiment.</p><p>Nevada stepped up close behind him, running his hands over Caractacus’s ass, giving him a quick slap to watch the pale skin turn pink. Caractacus twitched and made a small sound but didn’t shy away. When Nevada thumbed ungently at his hole, Caractacus pushed back against the pressure, trying to pull him inside, and Nevada laughed at his neediness.</p><p>“Might wanna hurry up with the lube,” Nevada warned. He grabbed handfuls of the other man’s ass and spread him open, poking the head of his sheathed, unlubricated cock against Caractacus’s hole.</p><p>“Wait,” Caractacus said, and Nevada frowned at the back of his head.</p><p>“I wasn’t gonna—” he started, despising the defensiveness in his own voice, but Caractacus cut him off.</p><p>“I won’t be able to see your face,” he objected, looking back over his shoulder.</p><p>Nevada hesitated, uncertain. He hated feeling uncertain. “The fuck you wanna see my face for?” he asked, scowling at the other man to hide his confusion.</p><p>“So I…” Caractacus licked nervously at his lip and glanced around the room before forcing his gaze back to Nevada’s. “So I know if you’re enjoying yourself,” he said. He could read Nevada’s frown and tone well enough, and he clearly expected to be mocked or chastised, but he’d finished anyway. Nevada still wasn’t sure what to make of Caractacus, but the man wasn’t an idiot or a coward.</p><p>Nevada cocked an eyebrow. “Should be obvious if I’m <em>enjoying</em> myself,” he said with a taunting smile.</p><p>“Well.” Caractacus turned his face away and sank down onto his elbows, leaving his ass on full display for Nevada. “Alright then, if that’s what you prefer.”</p><p>Nevada reached out a hand and hesitated again, scowling darker. He tried to convince himself it was nothing more than curiosity when he heard the words leave his lips: “You got a better idea? Don’t be shy.”</p><p>Caractacus pushed himself back up onto his hands and looked over his shoulder again. “May I?” he asked before slowly straightening.</p><p>Nevada stepped back, still scowling, as Caractacus turned toward him. Caractacus offered him a sheepish, shy smile. His face and chest were still flushed, and Nevada vowed that next time, he would also enjoy leaving marks that wouldn’t soon be forgotten.</p><p>Caractacus reached out a hand to take hold of Nevada’s wrist, and Nevada stared at him. “You lie down,” Caractacus said, gesturing toward the bed.</p><p>Nevada’s eyebrows climbed halfway up his forehead, and Caractacus flushed even darker. He looked down, biting his lip, and suddenly Nevada wanted to bite the other man’s lip—again—more than anything else in the world.</p><p>“I mean, please,” Caractacus murmured, letting go of Nevada’s wrist.</p><p>Nevada meant to refuse. He meant to spin Caractacus around, shove him face first onto the mattress, and fuck him until he couldn’t walk—maybe without lube, after all, as punishment. He certainly didn’t mean to step forward and turn around to sit on the edge of the bed. He could only blame his curiosity.</p><p>Caractacus smiled broadly, looking indecently pleased, and it occurred to Nevada that seeing the other man’s face might have some advantages, after all. That smile would be gone soon enough, and Nevada told himself he would enjoy watching it go.</p><p>Nevada was inexplicably nervous, sitting on the edge of the bed with Caractacus looking down at him. He didn’t like feeling nervous, or disadvantaged, and he couldn’t let Caractacus see it. He pushed himself backward and flopped down, shoving a bent arm beneath his head and scratching idly at his stomach with his other hand. He smirked and raised his eyebrows in challenge.</p><p>He was tense despite his bravado, unable to ease the worry out of his muscles as Caractacus looked him over. Caractacus swallowed when his gaze landed on Nevada’s erection, jutting impatiently from his dark curls.</p><p>Nevada flashed his teeth. “You still feel me in your throat, Cactus?” he teased in a low, silky voice.</p><p>“Yes.” Caractacus crawled onto the bed, straddling Nevada’s thighs, and for a moment Nevada had to fight the urge to shove him off. Then he realized what Caractacus intended, and some of his tension eased. Caractacus picked up the lube and met Nevada’s eyes. “May I?” he asked.</p><p>Nevada rolled his eyes at the politeness and waved a hand in permission, watching as the other man squirted the lube into his own palm to let it warm to his skin. The consideration was disconcerting. “This gonna take all night?” he griped.</p><p>“I like your tattoo,” Caractacus said as he wrapped his fingers around Nevada’s cock. His touch was gentle but efficient as he quickly spread the lube over the condom.</p><p>“Which one.” Nevada had to make a conscious effort not to thrust himself into the other man’s hand.</p><p>Caractacus reached out his other hand and ran his fingers, feather-light, over the brass knuckles inked into the V of Nevada’s hip. Nevada jerked at the unexpected touch, then scowled up at Caractacus and ground his teeth. Caractacus didn’t comment on the reaction, and his small smile held no hint of mockery.</p><p>“Both, but I meant this one,” he said. “It’s more…subtle. Almost like a secret.”</p><p>Nevada snorted to cover his discomfort. “Everyone I fuck sees it,” he said, which wasn’t exactly true.</p><p>“Hm,” Caractacus answered, the sound clearly saying that he didn’t believe him but that he was too polite to press the issue. He walked forward on his knees, reaching between his own legs to lube himself. “Do you, um…do you mind if I do this?” he asked, hesitating as he reached for Nevada’s cock.</p><p>Nevada glared at him. His fingers itched to grab the other man’s pale hips, but he resisted. “If you fucking hurry up.”</p><p>“Oh, yes, sorry.” Caractacus laughed, an embarrassed, giggly little sound. “It’s been awhile,” he admitted, positioning himself over Nevada’s erection with a hand wrapped around its base.</p><p>“That your way of asking me to be <em>gentle</em>?” Nevada taunted.</p><p>“Oh! No, of course not,” Caractacus exclaimed. He lowered himself slowly until the head of Nevada’s cock was nestled safely inside his ass, and then he moved his hand out of the way and met Nevada’s dark stare. “You can do whatever you want.”</p><p>“Whatever I want,” Nevada purred, peering up at him through narrowed eyes. “You don’t know what you’re offering.”</p><p>“I’ve got a pretty good idea,” Caractacus returned. He shifted his knees a little, letting his hands rest on his thighs. “However, if you’d rather I—”</p><p>“You ever shut up?” Nevada couldn’t remember ever talking so much during sex, and he definitely wasn’t used to someone staring at him. Caractacus still had a small smile curving his lips, and his eyes were bright and watchful. He didn’t look like a man expecting to be hurt.</p><p>“Of course, sorry,” he said, sounding only mildly subdued. “I can be—”</p><p>Nevada grabbed Caractacus’s waist and pulled him down. He expected a little resistance—for Caractacus to at least tense in surprise—but Nevada was unprepared for the other man’s pliability and heard himself grunt quietly as Caractacus took his entire length in an instant.</p><p>Caractacus moaned, a loud, high-pitched sound that Nevada found far more appealing than he cared to admit, and dropped his head forward. His hair flopped onto his forehead and he closed his eyes. “<em>Fuck me</em>,” he exhaled. It wasn’t a command or request; it was nothing more than an exclamation, barely audible, but Nevada answered anyway.</p><p>“Fuck your<em>self</em>,” he countered.</p><p>Caractacus lifted his head slowly, opening his eyes to meet Nevada’s hooded stare. He drew a deep breath and released it, shifting carefully. He reached out and put his palms on Nevada’s chest, pausing to see if the touch would be rebuked. Nevada didn’t shove him off; he liked the pressure of the other man’s hands pushing down on him when Caractacus shifted again.</p><p>Caractacus lifted himself up slowly, carefully, and sank down. Nevada bit back his frustrated groan. “Do you need a pillow?” Caractacus asked. He smiled at the sight of Nevada’s answering glare. “I know, I know,” he said. “I’m working on it.”</p><p>“You’re fuckin’ weird.”</p><p>“I hope you mean that as an adjective and not a verb.”</p><p>Before Nevada could work his way through that, Caractacus levered himself halfway up, wiggled his hips to find a more comfortable position, and dropped down hard. Nevada grunted in surprise, clutching at the other man’s hips, but Caractacus was already repeating the move.</p><p>Nevada wasn’t going to admit it out loud, but he was glad he’d taken a chance on the clown. This was a good look on him—riding Nevada’s cock, back bowed, muscles rippling as he pumped himself up and down Nevada’s length, face twisted in pleasure; Caractacus didn’t move like a man afraid of upsetting Nevada, he moved like a man who cared about nothing more than giving both of their bodies what they craved, and Nevada couldn’t remember the last time he’d been with someone who didn’t have a shadow of fear lingering in their eyes.</p><p>Caractacus shifted his weight so he could pull one hand back from Nevada’s chest, but he didn’t slow the rocking of his hips as he circled that hand around his own erection. Nevada, who was teetering on the brink he’d been skirting all night, thought the other man was going to finish himself off, and he felt a flash of irritation at not being asked for permission.</p><p>Caractacus didn’t stroke himself, though. He wrapped his fingers around his erection and tightened his hold, and Nevada’s anger was gone in an instant.</p><p>“Good boy,” he heard himself say, and Caractacus’s heavy gaze found his. He was bouncing unevenly on Nevada’s cock, now, most of his rhythm lost, and he was making a small whimpering sound with every downward thrust. “Come on me,” Nevada ordered.</p><p>Caractacus whined, but he let his hand fall away from his leaking cock. His hips stuttered and he started to drop forward, but Nevada slapped a palm against the other man’s sweaty chest to keep him upright. Caractacus cried out, leaning into Nevada’s touch as he came with a shudder.</p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>,” Nevada gasped as Caractacus tightened around him, and he came <em>hard</em>, all the built-up frustration finally erupting. He grabbed both of Caractacus’s hips, barely caring as Caractacus collapsed forward onto his chest, and drove into him, fucking him hard and fast until he was finally spent.</p><p>When he finished, his exhausted muscles sinking into the mattress, Caractacus was sprawled on top of him, breathing heavily. Nevada was about to shove him away when he felt the other man kissing his chest, his lips soft against the bottom arc of Nevada’s tattoo, and Nevada decided to give him a few more moments to catch his breath.</p><p>Caractacus levered himself up with a soft groan and flopped over onto his back beside Nevada, releasing a long, shaky sigh. “Guess I’ll feel that in the morning,” he muttered, and Nevada laughed in spite of himself. Caractacus yawned as his eyes slipped closed. “I’m sure you want me to leave,” he said before Nevada could speak. “I just need a quick minute.”</p><p>Nevada stared at him, and after a few seconds Caractacus cracked an eye to peer at him as though he’d felt the other man’s dark gaze. Nevada shifted, caught off guard, and frowned.</p><p>“No?” Caractacus asked. He didn’t seem upset, but he winced as he pushed himself up onto his elbows. “Alright. I’ll get—”</p><p>“No rush.”</p><p>“No?” Caractacus repeated, sounding more hopeful. He looked down at Nevada and narrowed his eyes. “Hoping to give me something else to feel in the morning?” he guessed, and his tone was light, teasing. Playful.</p><p>“Mouthy, but not stupid.”</p><p>Caractacus laughed and leaned down over Nevada, planting a quick kiss on his lips before it occurred to Nevada to resist. “Thanks. That condom looks pretty full, want me to get that off for you?”</p><p>“<em>Con-dom</em>,” Nevada repeated, mocking Caractacus’s pronunciation. He paused, rolling his eyes when Caractacus only smiled in response. “Well it ain’t gonna remove itself,” he muttered, unsure when he’d decided to let the clown stay the night.</p><p>“I’m not sure how to get that off, though,” Caractacus added, eyeing Nevada’s now-loosened cock ring with unabashed curiosity. “I’ve never understood the appeal…”</p><p>Nevada flashed his teeth in a predatory grin. He was too tired to do much more at the moment, but he was pleased to see that Caractacus correctly interpreted his look.  </p><p>Caractacus swallowed and licked his lip again. “Always open to learn knew things, though,” he allowed.</p><p>Nevada lifted a heavy arm and grabbed Caractacus’s hair, pulling him down. He’d settle for a nibble on that lip for now, and save the real biting for later.</p>
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